Vanya’s eyes light up and she ruffles Ava’s hair. “That’s right, darling. You’re always safe here. Remember that.”
The conversation with Vanya is the final straw. I want my wife back. I didn’t marry her to lose her all over again.
That night, we put Ava to bed together, and she seems remarkably unscathed by the stories about Baba Yaga. I don’t leave after bed time like I normally do.
When Nina returns to the guest bedroom next to Ava’s, I appear in the doorway.
“You will sleep in my bed, Nenoka.”
Her hair is loose around her shoulders, and her face scrubbed clean. She doesn’t react to my suggestion, her expression blank. I can see her trying not to react.
I encircle her wrist with my fingers.
“Tonight.”
That gets her attention. She might not react to my words, but Nina will always react to my touch. She turns to face me, her face stony, her brow set. She doesn’t respond, just yanks her arm away, but I see the way her frown deepens.
“Nothing has changed since our wedding day.”
Nina sighs and rolls her eyes, but stays quiet. I know she wants to say something.
Just one word would be enough.
“You won’t talk to me. Will you kiss me?”
I tilt her chin up towards me, but her mouth is set in an unforgiving line. No warmth in her amber eyes.
“What can I do? How can I make this right?”
I trace my thumb over her lower lip and her lips part automatically. I think maybe I’ve won, but she wrenches herself away. She continues getting ready for bed, like nothing has happened, slipping into a pale green nightdress that clings to her curves.
I lean against the dresser and watch her. I’m not leaving unless she’s with me.
God, I fucking want her.
Even when she’s fuming.
Even when I don’t understand her.
I change tack. “You know, we’re married. I will not tolerate this kind of insolence from my wife, Nenoka.”
Her eyes flame. Finally.“Don’t you dare call me that. You have no right.”
“You said a vow. You’re mine. I married you and I wanted everything that went with it: your love, your words, your passion.”
“And you lied so that I would agree.” She throws a pillow at me. “That’s not love, that’s manipulation. I knew you had an ulterior motive. You never do anything unless there’s something in it for you.”
I can feel how angry she is, see the tension coiling in her shoulders. Yet even her most cutting words are music to my ears after being deprived of her voice for a week.
“Do you want to embarrass me? By not sleeping in my room?”
Her eyes burn. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, Art. But if that’s a side effect, I’m notmad about it.”
“Fine. You won’t sleep in my room? I’ll sleep here. I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to Nen– Nina.” I strip to my underwear to get ready for bed, too.
She turns away sharply, heading to the dresser to brush her hair.
Then she starts to speak, quietly but rapidly.
